


Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

by chameleontattoos



Series: Wolf & Wildcat [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22858969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleontattoos/pseuds/chameleontattoos
Summary: It’d be idiotic to assume that all of her friends think well of her dalliance with Fenris. Probably the only people whodon’tthink it was an exercise in futility are Isabela and Varric. Maybe not even Varric. No doubt all the rest of them feel justified in their belief, what with the wholeFenris got cold feet and Hawke just let him leavesituation. It doesn’t really cast either of them in the most flattering light.
Relationships: Anders & Hawke, Fenris/Female Hawke, Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Series: Wolf & Wildcat [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553473
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Hardest Thing I've Ever Done

**Author's Note:**

> A fun time where I offer to the jury my personal interpretation of what might have been if Hawke had been given the option to respond to that one exchange between Anders and Fenris after Hawke and Fenris had their one night together.

It’d be idiotic to assume that all of her friends think well of her dalliance with Fenris. Probably the only people who _don’t_ think it was an exercise in futility are Isabela and Varric. Maybe not even Varric. No doubt all the rest of them feel justified in their belief, what with the whole _Fenris got cold feet and Hawke just let him leave_ situation. It doesn’t really cast either of them in the most flattering light.

Of course, Roisin knows better. Fenris, for all that he can swing a sword almost as long as he is tall with one hand, is fragile. She’s always known the truth of that. He had _needed_ to leave in order to process the things that he had learned. Trying to force him to cross his own line in the sand simply because she wanted him to stay would have been cruel and unfair.

Fenris had fought hard for his autonomy, and he is _still_ fighting. Roisin respects his right to make up his own mind about what he wants—and if what he wants isn’t her in his bed, then she’ll accept his decision and they can move forward as friends. She would cut off all ten of her fingers _and_ all ten toes before she’d hold his trauma to ransom in exchange for an emotional commitment that he isn’t ready to make. Or _shame_ him for it, Maker forbid.

At least the majority of her friends—yes, even Varric, after that one chat—recognise that the matter ought to be left alone.

Anders, evidently, has no such reservations.

In retrospect, Roisin shouldn’t have had so much faith in his ability to read the room and keep his mouth shut.

“I can’t imagine what Hawke sees in you.” He sounds so _imperious_ , because of course he does. He treats antagonising Fenris like a kickball match that he absolutely _has_ to win, or he’ll just _die_.

She _could_ pretend she hadn’t heard, even though the docks aren’t especially populated at this hour. There’s at least half a chance that, as long as Fenris doesn’t rise to the bait, Anders will stop talking. Roisin will quite happily take those odds. She’s too _tired_ to navigate complex social conundrums this week, damn it. If the problem can’t be solved by jamming a hilted piece of metal into it, she really would rather not have to deal with it.

That being said, there is _also_ at least half a chance that Anders will keep needling Fenris because he has a point to prove. Never mind that the point he’s always making—that Fenris is a terrible influence and wouldn’t Roisin rather be with a man who has, you know, _boundaries_ and _self-control_ – is utterly wrong, not to mention insulting.

Oh, Roisin knows Anders wants her. She’s been around enough to recognise the signs of a man who wants a woman. And Anders _is_ a good man—when he isn’t being insufferably presumptuous about her feelings—but Roisin has never even remotely considered him as anything more than a friend.

To the Void with it. The sooner she makes her stance clear, the sooner she can nip this in the bud. “Knock it off, Anders.”

She doesn’t bother to spare him even so much as a backward glance, keeping her eyes on the warehouses. Having to spot a symbol the size of a hand from fifty paces away is hard enough when the sun’s out; trying to find it by the light of a waning moon will just take twice as long if she doesn’t concentrate.

There’s an affronted huff from behind her. Roisin can easily picture the disapproving grimace that Anders is levelling at the back of her head. She’ll let him stew; if he wants to behave like a child, she won’t stop him. There are more pressing matters to attend to. Gang hideouts to purge. Not to mention Orana still needs some of those fish heads for that… whatever it is she’s cooking.

Although, it being such a late hour, Orana’s fish heads might have to wait until tomorrow.

“It is done.” Fenris says after a few more beats of almost-silence. His deep, rumbling voice is barely audible over the gentle, constant rolling of the ocean. Their fair mage must still be trying to change her mind with his eyes. “Leave it be.”

Anders makes a disgruntled noise and sniffles pompously. “Well, good. I always knew she had some sense.”

“Andraste’s _clit_ , Anders.” Roisin stops in her tracks and whirls to face him. She turns quickly enough that she catches him by surprise, and he stumbles over a wayward wrench before he can set himself to rights. She would laugh if she wasn’t so frustrated. “That’s _enough_.”

Anders opens his mouth to speak, but Roisin holds up a hand.

“First of all,” she says tightly, “ _Some_ sense? What am I, a calf-eyed scullery maid? If you’re going to insult my intellect, you could at least have the courtesy to do it when I can’t fucking _hear_ you.” She crosses her arms and fixes him with her best glare. To his credit, he holds her gaze for a moment before glancing away guiltily. “Second, what happened between Fenris and I doesn’t concern you, nor do my personal feelings on the matter. The commentary stops here. Mind your own damned business.”

Anders’ lips part again; before he can make a sound, Roisin says, “The next and only words out of your mouth had better be _I'm_ and _sorry_ , or I'm not interested.”

“I am.” He meets her eye sheepishly. “I _am_ sorry, Hawke. I only wanted—”

“ _Not_. Interested.” Over his shoulder she spots the insignia that she’s after. “There it is. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever desperately wanted to include a line of canon dialogue in a fic but you also have been working on it for nearly 4 months and just want to post it and can't be bothered to rewrite it a fourth time to make that one line fit so you use it for the title instead? Yeah, me too.
> 
> I feel like I made our father Varric "I'm going to dramatise this whole damn story for funsies because I'm an Artiste and that is what Artistes do to their friends" Tethras proud with this, to be honest.
> 
> I know this has kind of an open end, but I don't have a continuation planned, just FYI.
> 
> As always, come chat on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/solarfruit)!!


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